A Reflection on Treks for All

In June 2025 I was visiting India from the United States when I had the opportunity to participate on a Treks for All adventure. I worked as an autism educator in Boston and am passionate about inclusion and disability advocacy, so jumping on Treks for All was an opportunity I couldn't say no to – I would get to support people with disabilities AND explore an off-the-path area of India (well, at least off the path for people like me, who have grown up going to dizzying cities like Mumbai and Bangalore). 5 nights, 6 days. I knew breathtaking mountain views, immersion in Hindi and good exercise awaited me. What else?

Animals, for one. I was filled with gratitude for both the cute mules that carried our belongings, and the village horses, cows and bulls that often stared at us but always graciously allowed us to continue on our (actually, their) path. (And shout out to the villagers who kindly motioned I should move to the side well before a galloping herd of horses raced in my direction).

Dirt, and it was glorious. Thanks to the Treks for All packing list which didn't miss a beat, I enjoyed not only connecting with nature, but becoming one with it, literally – rain, grass, dirt, and mud, but it was always safe (and fun) to soak up. (It was especially refreshing after the boiling heat of New Delhi, but that's a different conversation).

Meals that were tastier than the food served at every school I've ever attended in my life. It was so satisfying to conclude several hours of walking with chilling in the folding chairs of the dining tent, enjoying soup, curries, vegetables, rice, and what is now my new favorite thing, moong dal halwa. And of course, we can't go without cutting chai.

Entertainment. With the vast sky and meadows as our backdrop, and without any technology in sight, we shared funny games and riddles that got increasingly side-splitting as the hours passed. The guides hung out with us, genuinely interested in getting to know us and in keeping the vibe fun. It was awesome that we could bypass a lot of the awkwardness and formalities that come up when you're first getting to know people, and just be ourselves right away, because, well, why not? Only the good stuff matters when you're somewhere as stunning and sacred as the Himalayas. But the award goes to my tentmate, who, at my request, serenaded me with Vande Mataram one night when I couldn't sleep. It turns out, she serenaded the entire camp!

On that note, dragonflies! Who knew there are that many dragonflies in Uttarakhand, and that they loved our tents more than we did? But actually, the dragonflies were a symbol for something bigger: camping skills. We all learned how to live out of a pack, to organize essentials, to stay hydrated and nourished, to crawl in and out of a tent a thousand times, to find the washroom (I mean wash tent) at 2 AM, and so much more that is necessary for living off the land safely and responsibly. These skills will serve us well in any outdoor setting, and I personally got practice in problem-solving and being more flexible, which will serve me well outdoors and indoors.

Country and city. India and the United States… okay, you get the idea. On the topic of learning, this was my first time working closely with the visually impaired and hearing-impaired communities. I was a little nervous at first, uncertain of how to balance my role as a buddy with my own self-care; remember, I don't know how to find the wash tent at 2AM myself! Luckily, I did know from both my personal and professional experience that part of having a disability is self-advocacy; letting people know where and how to fill in the gaps. When you trek with people, you get pretty comfortable with each other right away (you don't really have a choice), so in retrospect, a trek was the perfect setting to bond and form connections across abilities. Within a few hours, my visually impaired tent mate was comfortable telling me exactly what she needed and when and why, and I was also comfortable asking her if I was doing too much, too little, or if I needed to change anything up. (Just as important, I was comfortable asking her to ask another buddy if I couldn't attend to her at the moment). We quickly, almost automatically developed a system of checking in with each other, and this transparency occurred across our group of trekkers – everybody stepping in to support everybody, without worrying about making a mistake. (The number of dragonflies in my tent drastically decreased after another trekker revealed to me that the tent has an inner zip).

I'm now certain this level of effortless connection can only happen on a trek, because it has to.

I'll never forget when we stepped into sweeping, emerald green Dayara Bugyal, spread on all sides of us like it went on forever. Our entire group made it to the top of the summit. (And then we all made it back down!) That moment really made it true: trekking can be for everyone! But how do we get more people outside and make it happen? I'm very grateful that Treks for All is working on this question, and honored to have played a part in the answer. (I'm also grateful to the delightful residents of Barsu, who kindly pointed the way when I got lost in their stepped village and could only say niche?....niche? With their help, I have now returned to the United States).

After participating in Treks for All, I 1) do not want to go back to Mumbai and Bangalore, 2) still call my tentmate to laugh at the same silly joke from our trek and 3) have a deep appreciation for the power of the natural world to dissolve barriers between people by insisting we all show up for each other. I would recommend Treks for All to anyone and can't wait to come back for round two.